


On My Knees I Think Clearer

by Meadow Lion (Meadow_Lion), Shoshanna Gold (shoshannagold)



Category: The Dare Project (2018)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, M/M, New York City, Post-Canon, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Lion/pseuds/Meadow%20Lion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshannagold/pseuds/Shoshanna%20Gold
Summary: After running into Ben in Los Angeles, Johnny has at least one reason to come to New York.
Relationships: Johnny (The Dare Project)/Ben (The Dare Project)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	On My Knees I Think Clearer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



> I hope you like it, Sandrine!
> 
> Endless thanks go to the goddess Shoshanna Gold. She knows why.
> 
> Thanks to Snow Patrol for the title.
> 
> Any mistakes are mine alone.

(three months later, Ben's bedroom, Tribeca)

_Hey, this is Johnny. From the pool._

Ben peers at the message, like the fact that it's 2 a.m. is making him misread it. Really, that's the best reference that Johnny could make? Not school, not just giving his last name, but "from the pool"? How the hell is Ben supposed to take that? How the hell should he reply? It's not like that opening is a lot to go on.

Maybe he'll just ignore it.

A minute later, he finds himself sending:

_Ben, also from the pool. What's up?_

_Got your number from Rob. You're in New York now, right? I'm going to be there next week. Interview. We should get together._

Fuck, should they?

Yes. They should.

_Details?_

~

(one week later, outside the Paley Center)

Johnny's taking a final pull off a cigarette then grinding it underfoot by the garage entrance. Ben can't help the smile on his face when he sees him. So much for being chill. 

"So, that's what you do these days," Johnny says, blowing smoke, possibly up Ben's ass when he adds, "Pretty impressive."

Damn it, he isn't going to blush. "I work with some pretty impressive people."

Johnny laughs. "I heard that about you. Can't take a compliment to save your life."

"What? From who?" Does this mean -- yes, it must. Johnny has been asking about him. 

"I'll tell you over dinner. Where's good around here?"

Ben purses his lips. "You want touristy or local?"

"I want to know what you like." 

Oh. (But _Ben_ 's the one who flirts. Riiight.) He grins. "Okay."

~

(an hour or so later, Le Reve)

Ben looks at the almost-empty platters in front of them. "Nobody else actually likes taramosalata."

Johnny shrugs. "It's such a great color. I don't know how they can resist."

"I think that might be why. People are suspicious of a pale pink dip." Ben waggles his eyebrows. It's over the top, but that makes Johnny laugh.

"You order it just so you don't have to share it, don't you?"

"Yes." Ben fakes a scowl at Johnny. "It's always worked before."

"I bet that a lot of things are going to be different with me." Johnny's gaze shifts back to the table, where he pushes a scrap of pita bread through the dregs of the dip.

"Johnny --" Ben hesitates. Does he want to know?

Johnny tops up their glasses with sparkling water, and then looks back up at Ben. "I don't drink much anymore." 

"I gathered that in L.A. Do you feel like talking about it now?" A second after asking, Ben almost regrets it. Johnny might use the callback to their conversation at the party to ask if Ben wants to discuss what he was avoiding then too: boyfriends. And of course Ben still doesn't want to talk about that with fucking Johnny of all people. Nope.

Johnny's deep breath is audible. "I used to drink when I went on dates. I drank a lot when I first got engaged. And then -- by the time we went to that party, things had been kind of weird for a while. Between Samantha and me. We took a break, and I realized that I drank because it made what came after drinking easier."

Ben tries to parse that, and can't. But he doesn't want to step in what seems like a pretty serious confession, so, he just tries to look encouraging.

"Fuck --'' Johnny grins. "Well. That actually sums it up pretty nicely. Drinking made fucking easier. Let me clarify that. Drinking made fucking women easier."

"Jesus, Johnny." Ben doesn't know what to say, really. Well. He knows what he wants to say. 

"So I thought I probably shouldn't do that anymore."

Ben clears his throat. "Which part?"

Johnny's gaze is focused entirely on Ben. It has the same magnetism as always, and the laughter at himself that Ben couldn't see before that night in high school. Now with a touch of added heat. "Both."

~

(an hour later, Ben's loft, Tribeca)

Ben hauls Johnny inside the door then pushes him up against it. He's taking a proper kiss this time. His hands frame Johnny's face and their mouths collide. It's heavy on the teeth for a second but softening fast, easing into the press of warm wet skin and evening scruff. Johnny opens for him. Ben licks into his mouth while Johnny's hands tighten on his hips.

When Ben sucks on his tongue, Johnny moans and breaks the kiss to bang his head back against the door.

"What? Sorry. Too fast?" Ben asks.

In answer Johnny stares at him and says, "Fuck, I want to suck you off."

~

(roughly 132 seconds later, Ben's bedroom, Tribeca)

"You don't have to," Ben says, lying on the bed while thinking, _God, please do_.

His hands are curled in Johnny's hair -- not quite how he imagined in high school, with those soft waves, but there's still enough to grip -- and he's fighting the urge to push Johnny lower. Johnny's bare skin against his is already a vast improvement on anything he imagined.

Johnny tips his head sideways, his cheek on Ben's stomach. He stares up at Ben. His knees are spread around Ben's legs in a way that tips Johnny's ass into the air. That and his mischievous expression, like he knows exactly what's going through Ben's mind, have Ben desperately hard.

Ben shifts. "Really --"

Johnny nips at the skin over his hipbone. "Calm down. Or don't, because you being so turned on is pretty hot. But don't worry, I've done this before."

Ben yanks Johnny's head up. "You what? When?"

"Kidding," Johnny says. "Oral is oral, though, right?"

Closing his eyes, Ben makes himself loosen his death-grip on Johnny's hair. He takes a deep breath and lets it out as a groan through clenched teeth.

"Aw, were you jealous, Light Boy?"

"Maybe I'm just tired of waiting so long for something we both want." Ben relishes the gravel in his voice and the way Johnny licks his lips. "So?"

Johnny swallows him whole.

Ben ignores the tiny, vindictive temptation to bang his knee into the side of Johnny's head, turnabout being fair play. He settles for fucking that wicked mouth and using his own spit-slicked hands to jerk off Johnny until they're both panting, spent messes in each other's arms.

~

(the next morning, Ben's bedroom, Tribeca)

Ben rolls over in bed. Johnny is not beside him. The bed is cold, and not only because the heat in his building is shit.

He isn't going to panic. It was a good night. Maybe they'll do it again sometime. Or maybe once was enough and he can finally move on.

Fuck, who is he kidding? It was a _great_ night. He wants to do it again _right now_. But, okay, that's just him. Johnny is two months out of an engagement. And, hell, he has been dealing with some major repression and pretty deadly self-hatred. Jesus, it sounds like the man almost became an alcoholic so he that could handle sex with lady parts.

Clearly, Johnny needs space. And time. Space and time, the cure-all combo.

Ben totally respects both of those things. Space and time are very important to him.

He inhales and exhales slowly. He'll just -- he'll just wait. For -- what? Maybe this wasn't anything. Just a thing that happens after a nice dinner with a guy you gave his first blowjob when you were fifteen. Ben will get another text a year from now about whomever Johnny is seeing at that point. Or Johnny will pretend to have forgotten Ben even exists and never contact him again.

Ben can feel his entire body tensing more with every thought.

"Jesus Christ, whatever you're thinking? Stop, right now." There are thumps on the bedside table behind Ben, then warm weight on the bed itself and warmer hands squeezing his shoulders.

"I wasn't thinking anything," Ben says reflexively, rolling over to face Johnny, who is kneeling on the bed. "I mean. Of course I was thinking. I have a lot to do today. I was thinking about that."

"Have I ever told you how bad of a liar you are?" Johnny asks with a laugh. "Because, seriously, man -- terrible."

"Fuck off. For all you know, my calendar is burgeoning with appointments." Ben gives Johnny a (mostly) playful smack to the ribs.

Flicking Ben's ear in retaliation, Johnny asks, "How can you use words like 'burgeoning' before you've had coffee?"

"1540 on the SATs. My mother was so proud of my verbal score . . . " Ben sits up to see what Johnny put on the table. "You brought me coffee."

"I did. And croissants." For a moment, Johnny looks unsure of himself. "I bought a lot of croissants, actually."  


Ben climbs around Johnny to grab the bag with its glorious Le Pain Quotidien logo, then resituates himself cross-legged on the bed to take a box out of the bag. A big box, surprisingly heavy. Opening it, he stares. "You bought _all_ the croissants."

"I didn't know which one you'd like best." Johnny's voice, for once, is quiet and serious. "I want you to have things you like. I -- I want to give you things you like."

"I'm surprised you didn't bring that many kinds of coffee too," Ben jokes. 

Johnny's expression shutters. 

Ben cups his face in both hands. "This is really sweet. Thank you. But, you know -- I think I already have something I like a lot."

"Yeah? You're not sure?" The light comes back into Johnny's eyes. "I brought you a dozen different kinds of croissants, for fuck's sake."

"I'm pretty sure." Ben leans close, and they share a long, lazy kiss. He definitely likes this. And he thinks maybe, possibly, he also feels -- what's the word?

Happy.

~ end ~ 


End file.
